


The Story Never Ends

by mydearsilhouette



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, M/M, bad clue inspired au, everyone in this au is very rich, gyu has an ex-girlfriend, hao has an ex-husband
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:22:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27064099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydearsilhouette/pseuds/mydearsilhouette
Summary: A story where Kim Mingyu, the young heir to a massive business empire, silently crushes on Xu Minghao, a business partner of his father who is 12 years older.
Relationships: Kim Mingyu/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	The Story Never Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a revised compilation of my twitter au, The Story Never Ends, so if you are new to the story it might not make much sense since this only consists of the narration portion of the au. If you are interested, you can find the character settings or read the full au [here](https://twitter.com/machereombre/status/1310989099499573255?s=20)! This compilation is mostly for my own archive purpose–I had very limited time writing it in the process, so I beta’d and made small revisions in case I want to look at it in the future. If you came from twitter, thank you so much for your love along the way, and I hope you enjoy savoring the actual narration again without grammar and spelling mistakes!

“I swallow my words down to the bone/Cause nothing’s that simple”

– _ The Story Never Ends, _ Lauv

1.

"Mingyu," his father gestures towards the man dressed meticulously in suits yet still managed to maintain an idiosyncratic sense of style with his popping color choices and fancy glasses chain. "Meet your  _ Samchon _ Seo."

Mingyu, just walking his English tutor out of the door, approaches and stares at the man who is obviously a little nervous.  _ Samchon? _ He barely looks like he is in his 20s. 

Maybe it's his smaller frame compared to himself, or his face that still has a shadow of a child when he smiles shyly, Mingyu hesitates to hold the man to that title.

"There's no need to put me that high, Mr. Kim," Minghao waves at the chairman, "My limited experience can merely afford me to be a friend of your son–Mingyu, is that right?"

Mingyu nods at the call of his name politely. He knows he is probably staring too much, but it's impossible not to pay attention to the details of his outfit, from the organic herbal patterns on his necktie to the shell-textured reflective cuff pins. Oh god–he just hopes Minghao doesn't find it intruding because it's definitely too late to draw back his gaze.

"Here's you being humble again," the chairman pats Minghao's shoulders, "age should not be an evaluation of a man's ability. 30 and already doing a president's job? You are not to be underestimated, my boy."

"You flatter me," Minghao bows slightly at the compliment, "I'm merely helping out as much as I can while my father is temporarily out of the office."

The chairman shakes his head fondly. "Mingyu, there are many things to learn from your  _ Samchon _ . His humbleness is an important one."

"Yes, father," with the nodding, Mingyu finally finds the chance to force himself to peel his eyes off of Minghao.

"If you want, I can have the secretary leave you my number," Minghao steps up to hold Mingyu at the elbows. "I'm not as busy as your father is, so feel free to find me if you have anything. People say I make a decent consultant. "

"Thank you," Mingyu smiles back at his kindness, "I'll definitely keep in touch." 

2.

"This piece is named 'The Night,' you can find details about this piece on page 12 of the brochure, numbered 85. The reserved price is 10 million won," announces the auctioneer, "and bidding begins now."

"11 million,"

"13 million,"

"17 million–"

Bidding goes on and on non-stop. Mingyu sighs lightly in the midst of the callings.

"Why? You want that piece?" Minghao tilts his head to the side to eye Mingyu, amused.

Mingyu touches the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "I really like it, yeah. But I just don't think my dad would be okay with me spending this much on a painting."

"Is that so?" Minghao raises an eyebrow. He waves a clerk over and whispers something to her ear.

"Wait, you don't have to–" Mingyu tries to interrupt in a flurry. Minghao has been too nice all along, and he can't let the hyung buy another painting for him at an auction.

"Don't worry about it," Minghao just smiles as the clerk hurries over to the stage.

"35 million once, 35 million twice–" just as the auctioneer is about to announce the hammer price, the clerk gets up to the stage to exchange a few words with him.

"Actually, my sincere apologies, ladies and gentlemen," bows the auctioneer gesturing to hand the painting over to the clerk, "the consignor has just withdrawn this piece from the auction. But there are many more beautiful artworks to come, so please don't be disappointed."

◈

"Wait, you painted that??" Watching the clerk wrap the painting up carefully, Mingyu looks at Minghao with his jaw dropped open.

Minghao chuckles, covering his mouth with a loose fist. "Yes. The8 is my pseudonym."

Before Mingyu recovers from the shock and says anything, he adds: "But please keep it a secret. Not many people in real life know that I paint."

"Why?" Mingyu's eyes dart back and forth between the man and his work. "I mean, this is so cool. Like actually. You could totally brag about it if you wanted to."

"Um," it actually takes Minghao a second to think before he answers, "maybe it's because I'm scared."

"Scared of what?"

Minghao purses his lips. "Being judged but others, I guess. I don't want them to look at my paintings and relate it to who Xu Minghao is–you know, with the titles and stuff. It... it gets complicated when all of that gets involved. I just want to see how my paintings are, genuinely, if you know what I mean."

Mingyu stares down at the sticker at the corner of the wrapper. It's a miniature of the painting itself, black and white, with a bright ivory moon hanging in the night sky. 

"I really like it," he says quietly, a hand hovering over the painting gently, "Don't be scared. Even though my words might matter little, I think you should be proud of it."

Minghao lowers his gaze to shade his expression. 

"Thank you," he eventually says to Mingyu as they walk towards the door. "This means a lot to me."

3.

If Soonyoung and Wonwoo did not knock the idea that he might have a crush on Minghao into him, Mingyu would probably never have realized that on his own. But they did, and when Minghao’s limo arrives at the gate, Mingyu, standing behind his father greeting all the guests, feels for the first time that his eyes might be made out of magnets, because he just can’t take them off of Xu Minghao.

Large camel cape coat hanging down his flimsy shoulders under the magenta suit, Minghao strides out of the car in swift motions, one hand gently pressing on his chest to keep the coat from slipping. Mingyu gulps something down as if his heart is popping out of his throat and that puts it back in place.

“Mr. Kim,” Minghao bows his head lightly at the chairman, who nods back in return. 

“And Mingyu,” Minghao smiles, a bit more casually at Mingyu. His eyes curve joyfully behind the golden frame of his glasses. “Haven’t seen you for a long time.”

“That… that’s right,” Mingyu responds nervously, afraid his stutter was too obvious. But Minghao doesn’t seem to notice. 

“I’ll head in then,” Handing his coat to the butler and picking up a glass half-filled with the burgundy liquid, Minghao raises his glass to the father and son. “Will catch you inside in a bit.”

◈

Mingyu’s hands are still shaking after he has finished typing the last text. 

He was carried off–by Minghao’s stunning appearance, as usual, but in a different way today. He would have looked at Minghao and thought he was beautiful before, but today there grows something more to that simple appreciation.

He is so beautiful, and it is not enough to perceive it only at such a distance.

Mingyu is scared to death by the realization of his own ambition. He tries hard to suppress it, but it becomes unstoppable. Like magma pressed under layers and layers of rocks for times longer than bearable, the adoration and the want burst free of crusty earth and erupt, all over the place, in his chest.

As he followed his father around greeting the guests, his eyes uncontrollably trailed down to the man in magenta. No matter how far away he was, it didn’t take longer than three seconds for Mingyu to spot him in the crowd. How odd, it could almost qualify as a superpower. 

It made Mingyu’s heart skip when Minghao smiled, even when the joyfulness was not directed towards him. The airy giggles of his rode the chilly night wind like a sled, flew across the crowded yet spacious ballroom, to land on Mingyu’s shoulders. 

_ I could watch this man until the end of time, _ Mingyu thought. A thought that quickly shattered at the arrival of Minghao’s text.

And Mingyu fled. Whatever that was heart-fluttering before cooled down into rocks, sinking down in deep, cold water, all the way to the bottom, because he doesn’t know what will happen if Minghao finds out about his feelings for him. He doesn’t dare think about what will happen.

Minghao has been treating him like a younger brother for years now, what will he think when he finds out the kindness he has generously given earns him nothing but fetishizing emotions back? Disgusted would be putting it way too mildly. 

What follows that is even more terrifying–if they aren’t lucky enough to keep it a secret, both of their reputations are ruined. Not only will the cooperation between the Xus and the Kims end, but even their individual businesses will also be harmed. 

And Mingyu can’t let that happen. 

4.

“Stop texting,” Minghao, with his eyes half-closed, reaches across the table to slap off Mingyu’s phone, which almost drops into the soup bowl. “Who is that important? Huh? I haven’t seen you in so long and all you do is text.”

Both startled by his hyung’s childish behavior and fluttered by the whiny tone, Mingyu tucks away his phone sheepishly. “No one important, I’m sorry. I won’t text.”

“Really?” Minghao squints at him unbelievingly. “I think it’s your girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend and you know that,  _ hyung, _ ” Mingyu sighs and tries to take away the wine glass in the man’s hand, which earns him a loud protest. “And you should probably stop drinking now, if you get too drunk I won’t know how to send you home.”

“Whatever, I can sleep on the streets–I’ve done that. I was wild when I was young,” Minghao hides away his glass so Mingyu can’t touch it. “Do you know that? You’ve never seen me when I was younger. I was so cool.”

“I’d wish to see you, but I don’t have to. You are still really cool now,” Mingyu tries to comfort him as teachers do with elementary school kids. 

“You are just saying that to make me feel better,” Minghao mumbles, “I’m just old and boring now. Like he said.”

“No, I’m serious,” Mingyu said, “and who’s that ˆ that said you are boring?”

“An annoying person,” pouring himself another glass, Minghao chugs it down in three gulps, which Mingyu attempts to interrupt but in vain. “Why is he still messing with my life after all these years? Hey, get the fuck out of my mind, do you hear that? Get out!”

_ Is that an ex of yours? _ Mingyu wants to ask. 

“I might be older, but I’m not boring,” Minghao raises his head suddenly and locks eyes with Mingyu. His eyes are watery. “Am I?”

Mingyu, caught off guard, fails to catch his breath for seconds. “No, no. It’s just him who doesn’t know how to appreciate your interests and hobbies. You are such a fun person to be with.”

Minghao nods with great satisfaction to his answer, his head droops lower and lower with each nod.

“Hey, hey,” Mingyu gets up hurriedly to hold him up, “Don’t fall asleep yet, tell me your address first!”

Minghao throws his phone at him. “Just call Jihoon and tell him to come and get me.”

“And your passwo-”

“–Pass? Oh, right. Before I pass out. If I can give you one advice, young man,” Minghao ignores his question and hiccups, “is to never get married early.”

And he’s out.

5.

“Minghao,” the man begs, holding onto both of Minghao’s hands in the empty hallway, “You know I don’t want to marry her. You are the only one I want.”

“Stop it,” Minghao makes a futile attempt to break away. He has been forced to drink too much at the bachelor party. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“But I’m not done saying it. I love you! ”

“If you loved me so much then why would you leave me?”

The man pauses, then mumbles unclearly: “I… It’s for family reasons. You must understand… you do understand! We suffer from the same situation. My family would never have acknowledged our marriage, and I have to marry a girl, otherwise they wouldn’t let me inherit the company. But once my grandfather dies and I get the company, I will divorce her and we can be together again.”

Minghao’s voice is shaking. “I could have given up everything for you, my inheritance, my family, my reputation, I was ready to make my future yours, but you?”

The man begins to kneel. The carpet under his knees is soft. “I’m sorry, Haohao, I’m truly sorry. I was too young, if you give me a chance now, I will never make the same decision to leave you. And the only reason I need the inheritance is that I want to take care of you! I need enough money to give you a comfortable life. Please, just say you love me too, and after all this, we can be together just as good as before.”

“I…”

“Even better than before! I promise I will treat you thousands of times better. And this time I will make sure we have a big wedding, a grand wedding. We won’t have to hide anymore.”

Minghao closes his eyes. The man catches the glint of hope, rises, and steps up, ready to wrap him in an embrace before a voice breaks their moment.

_ “Myungho hyung.” _

“Min..mingyu?!” Minghao pushes the man away nervously. “Why are you here?!”

“Hao, you guys know each other?” The man’s brows furrow in dismay, he asks in Mandarin.

“He… uh…” Looking at Mingyu in nothing but a white hotel bathrobe, Minghao shakes his steaming head and struggles to find words to answer the question.

“Hyung, I have something to tell you,” Mingyu marches to catch Minghao by the wrist, pulling him further away from the man. “Can you come to my room for a minute?” 

But that isn’t really a question. 

"Wait...Wait!!"

Mingyu shuts the door behind them.

6.

Minghao gasps at the tight grip around his wrist. Mingyu notices and nervously lets go of him.

"...Sorry hyung! Did I hurt you?"

"It's fine," Minghao shakes his head with a feeble smile. "But besides that... why are you here?"

"I... I have to run some errands for my dad here in the country," Mingyu backs away as his gaze drifts awkwardly. When he is answered with a doubtful silence, he sighs defeatedly. "That doesn't sound very convincing, does it?"

Minghao doesn't say anything. He looks younger now, under the warm, butterscotch light, either because of the unfamiliar setting or the incident earlier. 

"When I said I have things to tell you... I wasn't exactly lying," Mingyu sits himself down at the end of the bed opposite to where Minghao sits and faces him. "This might sound terrible–it  _ is _ quite terrible too now I think of it–but I read your text last time when you gave me your phone to call Jihoon hyung at the restaurant. I'm sorry."

Minghao's body stiffens. Mingyu goes on.

"I-I really didn't mean to. But it just popped up and I glanced at it. And what you were talking about all night made me curious too, so I just... It's awful of me to do, and if you are mad at me I have nothing to say to defend myself."

Minghao waits. Eventually he lets out a soft sigh, still not looking at Mingyu. "If you already know what's going on, there's no need to hide anything anymore."

7.

Minghao had fallen in love with him when he was young. 20, a perfect age to be in love. 

Within the small circle of sexual minorities, they were both in the smaller circle of the same ethnicity among the students overseas, and everything just happened so naturally. They met, they held hands, they kissed, and they slept. 

Was it really the person himself? Minghao isn’t so sure thinking back to it, or is it just the idea of him that he had fallen in love with?

He doesn’t know. But that is a concern for the 33-year-old Xu Minghao; he didn’t bother thinking about it when he was younger.

So after they slept and lived together, they got married. It was easy to do in secret when they were in a foreign country. They went to get the marriage registration, took a picture, vowed in front of an official, and received a certificate. As simple as that, they were married. No witnesses, no blessings, let alone roses and weddings. They didn’t even have rings. 

Because they both knew with their family backgrounds, this marriage would never be supported. 

So they buried the marriage underneath the ashes of romance and lived with it for 7 years. 

7 years, enough for both of them to graduate and return to China and take care of their family businesses, all while pretending to be the bachelors that they were not. Although technically they were–the foreign same-sex marriage certificate was invalid in their country anyway.

But they still held tight onto each other, in corners and alleys where darkness put a veil onto everything. They still met, held hands, kissed, and slept. 

It wasn’t until his 30th birthday that he broke the news to Minghao.

_ I can’t do this anymore, Hao,  _ he said,  _ my parents found me a girl. _

Minghao thought he could understand. His lover was 30, and he himself was turning 30 soon. His parents were urging him to wife a younger girl. They won’t be able to avoid a real, valid marriage long. 

But Minghao was ready to fight until the end. Together, too. Minghao didn’t expect him to give up first.

He argued. He begged. He cried. He thought about revealing the marriage to the world in order to make him stay. He didn’t have the courage, but he  _ did _ reveal the news to his own parents. 

His father was so appalled by the news that it caused him an AMI and sent him to the hospital. His mother, crying by the emergency room, demanded him to invalidate the marriage. 

30, and Xu Minghao was divorced. 

8.

After a long, suffocating silence, Minghao speaks.

“And that’s why my father put me up in his place,” he says quietly, “to send me to Korea and occupy me with work so I won’t see him again.

“And that’s when I met you too. I’m not really a loving older brother, Mingyu, I love little babies, but I can be an asshole to younger kids. I gave you all my attention and spent all of my time outside of work with you. I  _ used _ you to distract myself from it.”

He finally looks up at Mingyu with a pitiful smile. “How horrible and pathetic of me. What have you done wrong that made you be stuck with me? I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to do that to someone, and you just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“No,” Mingyu looks back at him with a blazing determination in his eyes. “ _ Use me. _ ”

“Ming…”

“Use me if that makes you feel better. I don’t mind.”

◈

_ Is it warm? Is it hot? Or is he too cold that he can’t feel anything else but the lips on top of his? _

He is drowning, positively, drowning in the fragrance of want. It is tender, it is fierce, it is explosive. It is everything that he has experienced before but hasn’t had in so long. 

His consciousness is flapping its limbs, struggling to answer the instinctive call of his body.  _ Should he answer it? Should he give back?  _

One order and his arms can crawl onto Mingyu’s bare, tanned shoulders, hold onto them like a castaway clings onto driftwood. Just one thought and the everlasting storm can be over.

Touch trails down to his chest, naval, and groin. He is tired of living in the constant nightmare of shipwrecks. 

He sucks in a deep breath as their mouths part from each other. His heart is pumping at the tip of his nerves, blood washing up against the walls of his veins. 

A bolt of lightning strikes across the sky as he opens his eyes. Slate blue light glistens against their bare skin, and all of a sudden he feels like ice. 

He shudders like the last leaf being torn by the winter wind. When Mingyu presses warmth gently onto his collarbones, he feels nothing but a stinging pain. 

It’s not right.  _ It’s not right. _

“I can’t do this,” he scrambles to shove Mingyu, surprised, away. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?”

_ It feels like hell, _ he wants to say, one second you are burning in desire and the next you are sinking to the bottom of the oceanic trench.

But all that comes out of his mouth is  _ I can’t do this. _

9.

It rains, hard, outside of the window. Dark and loud, it makes people too lazy and too depressed to talk.

So Mingyu just lies on his side of the king-sized bed, his back facing the bathroom, where the light is, and stares into the blankness of night. 

He senses a slight dip on the other side of the bed and he turns around. Not to face Minghao, just to adjust his position for sleep, knowing he probably can’t fall asleep.

Minghao turns off the last light above them. Quietness expands and fills the room like a sponge thrown into a bucket full of water. 

Hearing the controlled breathing not too far away from his pillow, Mingyu lets himself be knocked over by the waves of emotions, a mixture of borrowed hurt, erosive disappointment, and to the slightest degree, shameless bliss. He gets knocked over onto the beach and absorbed back into the waves, only to be slapped onto sand face down once again. 

Time ticks. He knows neither is Minghao asleep. 

“I am sorry.” 

The voice is so quiet that it almost blends into the sound of rain.

Mingyu hears it, but doesn’t know how to reply.  _ I’m sorry too? It’s okay? I don’t care? _ Nothing seems like a good enough response, and he is feeling sleepy. 

So he just closes his eyes, lets his subconsciousness guide him, and inches his way through the undulating folds of the duvet to hold Minghao in his arms. Wordlessly.

Minghao’s body tenses. A second passes like an eternity. It’s still raining, with occasional thundering and lightning. 

Time ticks. 

He doesn't resist.

10.

They don’t talk much the morning they wake up, not on the plane ride back, nor when they get off the plane. 

Jihoon doesn’t seem surprised to see Mingyu when he picks Minghao up at the gate, even if he does he hides it well. He only nods as a greeting and proceeds to open the door for Minghao. 

Minghao doesn’t say goodbye. He hands the bag to Jihoon and steps in his limo. He stretches a little in the seat, fully sensing his back sore from sleeping all night with the muscles of his whole body tensed up. He didn’t sleep well– _ well _ , to put in fairer terms, he barely slept.

His phone keeps buzzing. Calls, text messages. He ignores the calls and intends to delete the messages without reading them, but his fingers pause at the grey text bubbles.

Every word he reads his brain cells scream at him to stop reading, but what’s the use. He reads on anyway. 

“Boss?” 

Jihoon turns around to look at him. He has been asking if Minghao wants anything for breakfast but the latter didn’t hear. 

Minghao blanks out for a few seconds. His face must have been wearing an ugly color to make Jihoon look worried. 

He shakes his head, then locks the screen. Really, all he wants is sleep. Actual sleep, without nightmares to wake him up in the middle of the night. 

11.

“How do you know where I live?” Arms crossed in front of his chest, Minghao sighs and asks the tall man standing in the door frame. “And come in, if you really do have a weak immune system as you said. I’m not a doctor and I don’t like taking care of sick people.”

Mingyu just beams brightly, a little too bright that it looks dumb. “Would you believe it if I say I bribed Jihoon hyung to bring me here?”

“Jihoon… Well, I will have to discuss that with him later.” Minghao massages his temples. ”What are you doing here at this hour?”

“To see you,” Mingyu steps in and closes the door behind him. “I thought my texts were pretty self-explanatory.”

Minghao blushes faintly, too faintly, almost invisible, and in a flash, the lively colors drain from his face. He turns away from Mingyu.

“Well, now that you’ve seen me, you can go.”

Mingyu’s expression dims at his coldness. “If that’s what you really want, then I’ll go.”

MInghao’s shoulders visibly stiffen. He takes an uneasy pause before he speaks again. “…Yeah.”

Mingyu catches it. Words seem insufficient, too ineffective to break the wall that Minghao has built up in front of him. But he has never been a man of words anyways. He throws his arms around Minghao, so tightly, like he did to the magnets of the same pole in kindergarten. They were not meant to be together, but he wanted them to be. He pressed against the natural forces so hard that it hurt his thumb, and then wrapped them in tape. 

_ It must have hurt a lot, _ he thinks, hugging Minghao,  _ for the magnets.  _

But he wouldn’t apologize. He doesn’t regret his decisions. He wouldn’t regret this one either. 

12.

What Mingyu gives him is different from what he used to give Minghao.

Some things they say in bed are similar, telling him how good they feel. But Mingyu says more than that. 

He asks how Minghao feels, asks for permission.  _ Does it hurt? Can I move faster now? Do you feel good? _ He would ask, as if Minghao is the person in control. Even if he is not.

He doesn’t call him  _ baby _ . Though Mingyu looks like the type of person to call his lover pet names, he doesn’t. It’s just his name, Minghao, but it feels different when he says it, with the Korean twist in it, making it  _ Myungho _ . He sometimes adds the  _ hyung _ , making Minghao shudder under the sense of guilt and sinfulness of it all. And when he doesn’t he sounds overwhelmingly seductive and possessive.

He compliments him, calls him pretty.  _ You look so hot like this, _ he would say while fucking Minghao to cry,  _ you are so pretty that I can come just looking at your face like this.  _

And he says I love you. Not I like you, not love you, not I want you.  _ I love you. _ Minghao doesn’t want to find out how much weight the three-word phrase holds in Mingyu’s heart, for if it doesn’t equate his he will be so completely destroyed. 

A frail sailboat besieged by warmth and affections, he has lost his sensor for true and false. He is scared, insecure, hung on the string of trust with one single dateless laundry clip. 

So he lets Mingyu do all the talking. His mind goes blank as he becomes filled, and he doesn’t make any sounds other than his quiet sobbing. Sadness? Not so much. Pain? Perhaps. He doesn’t know since when he has become so vulnerable. One thing he does know, somehow, is that it’s okay to cry to Mingyu. To expose his weakness to the man who he considers a boy. 

_ I love you, _ the boy whispers to his ear under heavy breaths.  _ Myungho hyung, let me love you.  _

Minghao doesn’t answer him. His tears do.

13.

Minghao regrets every single decision that he has made last night on impulse sitting in bed the next morning. Mingyu is still asleep. Beside him.

He presses a button above the headboard and the curtains open. It's gloomy. Light seeps into the room like poorly mixed slime.

Minghao watches the boy in sleep. With much tenderness that he does not intend, Minghao lays a hand on his shoulder. It should be cold, exposed in the air all night, but it isn't.

_ Much like himself,  _ Minghao thinks.

He slips himself back under the duvet. The boy mumbles something in his sleep and slumps one arm over Minghao's body. Minghao lets him.

It amazes him, how different it all feels despite both being romantic love. And it makes him want to see more of it, the possibilities that no one has ever shown him before.

Yet he doesn't dare take another step forward. He has already crossed a line, he can't cross another. 

But at the same time he asks himself, how many lines are there in the first place? If there are too many, what's wrong with crossing another? If there is only one, what does it matter if he keeps going forward?

He doesn't know the answer to that. Looking at the lines of Mingyu's features he just knows he wants to kiss. Kiss his brow bone, his nose bridge, the dent under his bottom lip. 

Just perhaps not on the lips.

He did, once. Well he didn't,  _ they _ did. And it took all the strength in him to wade himself out of the swamp of feelings after that kiss. 

He has feelings. He certainly has feelings for the boy. Maybe he was using him in the beginning, but many have changed since that intention. 

But he's not ready to fall, for Mingyu, for anyone. Especially not for Mingyu. Wrong timing could be contributing to the general falseness of it, but there's more to it that hinders him from falling. His fear, his self-denial. His age, his past. There are too many reasons why this isn't as simple as Mingyu has asked, "let me love you," it doesn't just happen. He knows. He knows too well.

He just wishes for things to go back to when they just met. No feelings involved, just a hyung and a boy that he cared about. It was the only thing that was simple in his life. And now he has lost that, too. 

They can never go back now. 

Minghao closes his eyes. He sinks lower into the pillows and presses himself closer to Mingyu's body. He cannot sleep, but he will pretend.

_ Fake it until you make it, _ they say.

14.

They’ve been spending time like this for almost a month now. 

It’s not as bad as he has thought it would be. Waking up in the middle of the night as usual, Minghao thinks as he looks at Mingyu, who spreads his limbs to occupy almost the entire bed in his sleep. Minghao chuckles, very quietly, not to disturb him.

He is almost convinced that this might work. 

Not many people need to know, maybe just a few of their closest. They aren’t ambitious, just sharing some of their days together like this makes them happy. That would be enough. 

But it’s at times when Mingyu showers him with the language of affection that snaps him back to reality. 

_ I hope I get to cook for you like this many many more times in the future, _ he says when stirring the butter in the pan before he starts to cook.

_ I would do so much better preparing an anniversary surprise than the main character did, _ he says when cuddling Minghao on the couch with a romantic movie playing on the screen.

_ I didn’t think I would ever be able to look at you so close. This makes me happy enough, I don’t need anything else, _ he says when kissing Minghao, the tips of their noses touching each other. 

It’s almost like Mingyu is avoiding to say the phrase directly on purpose, so he translates the phrase into different languages of affection every time he can no longer hold in his love for Minghao. Just like how he is carefully avoiding to ask the question of “what are we,” which Minghao appreciates. Because he wouldn’t know how to answer. 

Maybe it was the title that killed the love in his last relationship in a hustle, he consoles himself, so it is only fair to not give them any titles this time to preserve it. He feels safer that way. 

But a part of him misses how Mingyu has whispered the enchantment of love that first time they slept, something that has been taken away because of their hesitancy. 

If he had a phonograph inside of his head to record the way Mingyu had said it, it would be the first thing that he wakes up to every morning and the last thing that sends him off to dreamland every night. 

_ I love you. _

Minghao is only brave enough to reciprocate that voice in his head at the darkest time of the night.  _ Me too, _ he murmurs, planting a kiss on Mingyu’s temple before he dozes off to sleep.  _ Me too. _

Mingyu’s lashes flutter under the moonlight. Minghao doesn’t see it. 

15.

“Father.”

The old man turns away from the window to eye his son. He gives the younger a fond smile.

“Come in and close the door,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about some important things.”

Mingyu nods, and carefully shuts the door of the study behind him. He takes a seat across the room.

“You know, my trip to Europe this time was not only for business purposes,” the chairman begins, “I was also looking for a permanent residence for a few years later.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“Mingyu, we both have to admit that I’m not young,” the man says slowly, attentively observing the wrinkles on his palm. “I’m in my mid-sixties now. It won’t be long before I will have to leave my position,

“And give it to you.”

“A few years?” Surprised, Mingyu gapes at him. Today he is still a careless college student, and in a year or two he will be taking charge of a whole business empire? “But father, I don’t think I will be ready…”

“Don’t worry,” the man reaches over the table to pat him on the arms assuringly. “I will make sure to have the same team that supported me through the hardest time, the best team, to be by your side and to mentor you. Besides that, I have full confidence in your abilities. You won’t have to make many changes from now till then.

“But there is one thing that I do wish you to do before taking over the company.

“I have already communicated with your university, and they have agreed to let you graduate this year as a junior so you can pursue graduate studies abroad right after to better prepare you for taking over the business,” the chairman opens a folder. An exquisite acceptance letter with golden lining lies within.

Mingyu looks at the paper unbelievingly. “Abroad?”

“Yes. London is a beautiful city with wonderful educational resources. I studied there years earlier myself. I’m sure you will enjoy your life there.”

“I would think so,” Mingyu feigns a smile to agree with him. “But why in such a hurry?”

“I’ll be honest with you,” the chairman sighs, “My health condition is not well. But do not worry, the doctor said I will be fine as long as I rest and don’t bear with the current workload for long, I won’t have too big of a problem. But I don’t trust anyone enough to give away the core responsibilities.”

“I see. I will work hard to meet your expectations and take the burden off from your shoulders, father.”

“And in addition to that,” the man lights a cigar in satisfaction, inhales it deeply. “There is another reason why I think it is good timing to do so. Remember Hyejin?”

Mingyu’s expressions freezes. That’s his ex-girlfriend from freshman year. “Yes.”

“Her father and I have long been good friends. He had sent her there this year already, and she is doing very well academically. But being an international student can be lonesome, so I thought it would be a good chance for you two to reconnect,” he taps off the ashes at the tip of the cigar, “after all, there wasn’t much unpleasantness in your relationship, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I…” Mingyu hesitates. The chairman raises his eyebrow in interest. 

“I would not agree that it is a good idea,” Mingyu finally says, timidly, while observing the look on his father’s face. 

“What makes you say so?”

“I don’t think I like her that much.”

The chairman laughs. “Why, the matter of ‘like’ is merely a matter of time and chance. You two have matching personalities, I’m sure it can work out some way.”

“No… it’s not that, exactly,” Mingyu tightens his jaw to give himself strength for what he has to say next. “It’s not just her. I… I might not have much interest in girls, in general.”

The old man pauses. He doesn’t tap off the ashes quick enough that they fall onto his well-ironed collar to make a smear on the fabric.

“I-”

He interrupts. “I think you are just confused, Mingyu. There is a lot of misinformation nowadays, and you must not be influenced by it. ”

“But-”

“I’ve heard enough talk today,” the chairman waves with a fatigued expression. “I’m tired. And now that you know the plan, you know what to do.”

Mingyu knows he has lost again. He sighs. “Yes, father.”

16.

“Are you tired?” Minghao asks gently, stroking strands of Mingyu’s damp hair. They just showered, and both of them are in bed, Mingyu’s head resting on Minghao’s lap. He is finishing his reading assignment, but he puts the book down when he hears Minghao’s question.

“Yeah,” he yawns a little. “I had five classes today. You charged me up just now, but this book is draining the rest of my energy.”

Minghao chuckles. “Then go to sleep. Get up earlier tomorrow to finish.”

The book drops onto Mingyu’s face, and a groan leaks out from underneath. “Hyung, You know how grumpy I am when I have to wake up early.”

Minghao rubs his stomach affectionately. “Even when I wake you up with a kiss?”

Mingyu slaps off the book, eye twinkling. “Wait really?! Can I get one now?”

“No,” Minghao covers his grin with a loose fist. “Now, go to sleep.”

Mingyu whines as the lamps are shut off. He closes his eyes to float in darkness when he feels a warm peck on his lips. 

“Good night.”

◈

Nights are unbearable for Minghao. 

His vision grows used to the darkness until he can see everything as if they are in daylight, and any sound is amplified in silence so that his ears hurt when every little noise goes off. He usually reads at night when he is alone, but he turns off the lights when he is with Mingyu so the latter can sleep in peace. 

He usually pretends to be asleep first, and when he hears Mingyu’s breathing become steady, he would watch his boy sleep. He studies his face, sometimes reminiscing the younger, rounder face that he first saw three years ago, and other times imagining what he would look like if they were the same age. 

That’s how he spends his night. He can feel his love swell with every second, every minute ticking by, no matter how many times he has looked at Mingyu. And often around 2 to 3 a.m., if he still hasn’t fallen asleep yet, his love would be so full that it erupts from inside of him. He would want to hold Mingyu closer, but is scared that would wake him up. So he just kisses him, whispers his confessions like a sinner to his priest. 

It’s the same tonight. Except Mingyu is awake. 

When Minghao leans into his ear, to timidly repeat the three words that only belong in the night, Mingyu turns around and seals those lips with his.

“I know,” he says, his voice low and coarse with sleep. “ _ I know. _ ”

Caught by surprise, Minghao’s face burns. “I thought you were asleep.”

Mingyu catches his hand and kisses its back. “I was. But I know you have the bad habit of telling me you love me at night, and I just wanted to catch you once. ”

“Since when?”

“Since the first time. I’ve always known,” He turns to trap Minghao’s body in a giant hug. “If you are going to say it, then I’d better be awake to hear it.”

“Have you ever thought of the possibility that I purposely keep it at night just so you don’t hear it?”

“No,” Mingyu says stubbornly, his lids heavy and his chin resting on Minghao’s chest. “Language of love is invented to be heard. Myungho hyung, say it after me. I love you.”

So embarrassed Minghao is, simultaneously by his own actions being exposed and Mingyu’s tone as if he’s talking to a kid, he covers his face with his hands. 

“Come on, you’ve said it so many times in my sleep,” Mingyu urges him on with a pout.

“… I love you too. I love you.”

Mingyu moves up to kiss him on the lips with a smile. “Now.”

“Would you stay tomorrow night too?”

“Of course. I’d spend every night and every day with you. I can move out of the dorms tomorrow if you want to.”

Those sweet words are supposed to make him happy. But Minghao feels a sting in his chest. “No… just two more nights would be enough.”

“Two? That’s so specific. Why?” Mingyu darts up in surprise. 

Minghao doesn’t want to look him in the eyes. So clear and innocent. It pains him to. “I’m leaving.”

“What? Where?”

“Remember, I’m only on temporary duty for my father? He has fully recovered now, so I’m going back to work at the headquarters in China.” Minghao can hear his own voice shaking as each word comes out of his mouth. He doesn’t know what’s breaking exactly, though, his voice, or his heart? 

“And I’m leaving in two days.”

Mingyu looks at him with the aid of moonlight for a long time. A long long time, long enough to make Minghao question if he has broken something inside of him.

Eventually he says, with a voice calmer than he is ever capable of making out: “I thought I was the one that has to say goodbye. But guess you won and did it first.”

“What do you mean?”

“My dad is sending me to England for graduate studies. In two months.”

Both of them fall silent. Outside, the night is fading into a toned-down white. Almost grey.

They both suck in a breath, ready to speak. Then they both stop to let the other speak first. It’s comic, but they don’t laugh.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Minghao says quietly. “Maybe this is  _ it. _ ”

Mingyu doesn’t respond.  _ This can be more than it if you want it to be,  _ he wants to rebuke. But he doesn’t. Some things are easier said than done, and this is one of them. 

The good thing is Minghao doesn’t wait for him to say anything. “Thank you for the past few months. I never knew I could have something like this in my life.”  _ So even if I won’t be able to have that for the rest of my life, it is alright. _

“Let’s make the last two days as good as it can get, then,” Mingyu’s clutch tightens around Minghao’s hands as if he is squishing pieces of Minghao into himself. As a souvenir. “Can we?”

Minghao smiles. “Yeah.”

17.

Time likes to play tricks upon lovers, to slip through the gaps between fingers in silence, so they lace theirs together to slow it down. 

They do not have sex. They make love to each other. And they do not do so because they thirst for each other’s bodies. They only crave for the intimacy; to be looked at with such closeness, to be touched, to be held tight, to be kissed, and to be loved. 

The same moment attachment is born from the heat and the touch, detachment is also given life, just like the moment a match is lit, its fire is doomed to burn out and vanish.

They do not make love to pleasure. They make love to remember.

Nights are unbearable for Minghao, but this one, he wants to split hours into minutes, minutes into seconds, and seconds into pieces of seconds, just so it can last a little longer for him to savor every moment of it, to recall the taste more easily when he walks out of it, empty-handed.

Mingyu is unusually reticent. Talking seems to only float uselessly on the surface of matters, so he abandons it. The only sound heard of him is his breaking breathing and heavy panting, and when those quiet down, there’s nothing more. 

They don’t talk, and don’t sleep, until Mingyu has to leave for his day and Minghao to the airport.

They get dressed, pack up their longing and germinating loneliness under their skin, eat cold breakfast, and head out of the door. 

They share one last kiss, temperatureless, and wave each other off before parting at the gate. 

Saying goodbye is like watching yourself get murdered with your hands tied behind your back. There's nothing you can do but to take the pain and die with it.

18.

The wind is chilly. Minghao shivers and shrinks lower into the collar of his cashmere turtleneck so he doesn’t get any colder. He takes a sip of the warm tea.

He arrived at the restaurant half an hour too early. But he doesn’t want to show how eager he is, so he finds a coffee shop just at the turn of the corner to wait for Mingyu to show up. Because then he can walk in about five minutes later after Mingyu arrives, dropping a casual “sorry, it’s the traffic.” How natural. 

He is proud of his brilliant idea, but soon enough he is terribly embarrassed by his childishness. What did he even arrive so early for? He bangs his forehead with the back of his hand silently in the corner of the coffee shop.  _ Gosh Xu Minghao, you are 35, why are you so eager like a middle schooler going on a date for the first time?  _

But he can’t deny that he is eager like a middle schooler. There is no business trip in the first place; it was just an excuse for him to come to London without looking too deliberate, and if Mingyu rejects him he can give himself an out. 

That’s the magic of Kim Mingyu, Minghao sighs, making him act unlike him all the time. 

When he left Korea two years ago, he thought that was it for Mingyu and him. Sad, yes, but it was just another heartbreak, for something that lasted only a few months. There’s no way it can compare to his first relationship–that was 10  _ years _ . He didn’t think anything can hurt more than that. He has gone over that, so he can do it this time too.

But he was wrong. 

The hurt for love is never identical. Time? It may contribute to the severity of it, but it’s not the determining factor. His failed marriage hurt, it hurt him with strangeness, disappointment, and betrayal. Parting with Mingyu hurt him with something else. 

He thought that not giving them a title was a way to avoid killing their love and to make ending it easier. But no, it only intensified his regret afterward. 

If leaving his ex-husband was getting over himself, his innocent self who devoted 10 years to giving selflessly to a heartless jerk, leaving Mingyu gave him  _ nothing _ to get over with. Their story hadn’t even begun yet, yet it was already over. A constant, blazing urge to see what possibilities they had abandoned on that gloomy day when they parted almost killed him inside.

Then he spots Mingyu. Camel topcoat and a navy scarf, striding towards the restaurant door with his long legs. Minghao can’t help but lift the corners of his lips.  _ Looking like a fine British gentleman now, Mingyu.  _

He has missed him. 

He thought he knew how much he had missed Mingyu, but it isn’t until he sees Mingyu in person that he realizes how much he misses Mingyu. All the days and nights he spent waiting, he is finally writing the one last note of longing in the musical bar. 

But his swelling heart is petrified at the sight of another woman, in a similar colored coat, skipping to catch up with Mingyu, then linking their arms together. And suddenly he feels like a fool.

He does, he  _ really _ does. 

Two years is a long time, Mingyu can move on. He should move on. He  _ has _ moved on. 

Minghao wants to slap himself in the face. Why was he so quick to make assumptions? They haven’t talked at all in the meantime, on what basis is he so confident that Mingyu has been waiting just like he has? 

Plus, he should have guessed when Mingyu asked if it’s okay to bring someone along. Someone, yeah. It’s not a group of people. It’s not a friend. It’s  _ someone _ .  _ A girlfriend. _

They walk into the restaurant, leaving the shadows of their backs to Minghao. They look good together, he thinks.

Maybe he should just leave. Maybe the reason to bring her along is that this was supposed to be their date night but his sudden appearance has ruined it for them. He should leave. 

He picks up his things, ready to head out. His phone vibrates on the table, the screen lights up a cold blue glow.

_ I’m at the restaurant now, are you almost here? _

Now he can’t run away.

19.

Minghao can’t hear anything but a buzzing in his head. He smiles mechanically when Mingyu introduces him to the girl and vice versa, but it doesn’t really go into his ear.  _ Hyein? Hyeji? Hyejung? _ Whatever her name is, Minghao can’t bring himself to like her much.

She is too giggly, too touchy. Her hands haven’t gotten off of Mingyu since the second he saw them. 

So he just sits, painfully, sipping the wine, hoping for the meal to finish as quickly as possible so he can flee and not sit here acting like an intruder. When Hyejin tries to make conversations with him, he drags himself to play the fond, approachable  _ Seonbae _ role, but he isn’t very successful at it. His mind is too loosened for him to focus on anything they are talking about. 

“…he is the one that I’ve been telling you about all along,” he hears Mingyu say. “For years you just wouldn’t believe me. How do you not understand?”

_ Huh? _

Mingyu takes one of his hands, with a little force that clears off Minghao’s mind.  _ What is he saying? _

“I didn’t make up a story to get rid of you. I’ve been in love with him since I was 21, no, since I was 20. You will never have a chance, get it?”

Minghao’s mind functions so jaggedly like a machine running out of lubricant, and the next thing he knows, the girl slaps the napkin onto the table and he is alone, with Mingyu, who looks at him anxiously, his hands still on top of Minghao’s.

“I-”

“What just happened?”

Mingyu takes back his hand to run it through his hair, trying to ease down his agitation. “I- I kind of blurted things out to her so she won’t bother me anymore. She’s not a bad person, it’s just that she wouldn’t believe what I’ve told her about not wanting to be in a relationship with her so I had to show her proof that I didn’t make you up.”

“You…”

“I might have been a little too harsh. Shit, was I too harsh on her?” Mingyu’s brows furrow.

“I don’t know, but wait,” Minghao blinks multiple times to tidy up the information in his head. “You had to blurt things out? Things? Being?”

Mingyu, perplexed for a moment, then bursts into a bright pink. “I- I didn’t mean– wait no, I did mean it. I mean– uh–”

“…You’ve been in love with me since you are 20, really?” Minghao could feel his own face burning. God, he wishes the waiters would turn the heating down a little bit.

Mingyu puffs out his cheeks in embarrassment like a sea urchin, then huffs out the air hopelessly when he realizes he can’t take what he has said back. “Really.”

“That verb tense implying you are still in love with me?”

“….Yes.”

Minghao looks at him, dumbfounded. 

“I’m so sorry if this is disturbing,” Mingyu rubs his face with his hands nervously. “I… I didn’t want to put it like that. Um, please forgive me–“

“I forgive you,” Minghao says, “I forgive you for making me think you had a girlfriend and almost making my heart break.”

“W–What?”

“You are so stupid. Well, I am so stupid. We are both stupid as fuck,” Minghao laughs with tears of joy forming at the corners of his eyes, “I love you too.”

20.

“Hey father, “ Mingyu says quietly sitting by his father's bedside. It is a beautiful day out, ripples of the lake shimmering in the sunshine. "can I tell you something?" 

The old man raises his head from the newspapers.

"Remember I said some years ago that I was... not interested in girls?" Mingyu begins with a voice so soft that he almost can't be heard. 

The old chairman humphs. Mingyu glances up quickly then looks down to his knees again, fidgeting his thumbs nervously. "I... I don't think I'm confused. I still think I like men."

"Is it Myungho?" 

Mingyu freezes. He would rather believe he just misheard than the possibility that his father has known all along. His expression must be twisted that the old man diverts the gaze back to the papers.

"What? You think I was stupid or something?" Disdainfully, he says, almost to himself. "I never should have you meet the guy. I should've known he isn't so pure as he looks after all."

Mingyu's heart clenches, and it hurts a little. Just a little, enough to make him sick, but it’s not fatal. 

"I'm sorry," that's all he can come up with to say in the end.

His father doesn't reply. What else is there for him to say anyways? Mingyu consoles himself, it's not like he will ever accept this–the fact that his son is gay and is in love with his former business partner. And he has waited until today to tell his father just so his father is in no place to deny his sexuality, which he in fact didn't. Isn't this the best way to end things?

But he still feels he has lost something. There's still a pore in his chest without the one phrase from his father, a phrase that he knows well he will never get from the man.

But that's good enough. Maybe this pore will erode into a bigger hole one day, maybe it won't. 

So Mingyu just sits for a while longer like he usually does, and says his goodbyes politely until his next visit.

There are many more days to come, and he has to carry on.

Walking out of the bedroom and having the nurse close the door gently behind him, Mingyu looks to his left. Minghao’s back leans against the white wall, and his face is pale.

"Hey, it's over," Mingyu whispers with a relieved sigh, walking over to hold Minghao's hands in his.

"Yeah," Minghao pulls a smile and squeezes his hands. "It's over."

Mingyu lowers his head to press a soft kiss onto his lips. "Let's go."

Minghao nods. They don't bother letting go of their hands walking down the spacious hall, despite the staring from the servants.

Mingyu has to carry on. But he doesn't have to carry on alone anymore.

\- Fin,

**Author's Note:**

> Alright~Thank you for reading up to here! I really didn't know a random drabble in my qrt would turn out to be a finished piece with almost 10k words with just the narration alone, wow. But here we are! I hope you enjoyed reading it, and please feel free to find me on twt@machereombre or cc@mydearsilhouette to talk more about this au or gyuhao~
> 
> See y'all in the next fic;)
> 
> ~silhouette


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